


Fives to One

by dogmatix, norcumi



Series: A Supplemental Star to Steer By [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, GFY, Gen, Goa'uld Jedi, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 05:35:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4167897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogmatix/pseuds/dogmatix, https://archiveofourown.org/users/norcumi/pseuds/norcumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ARC Troopers Fives and Echo have been summoned to Coruscant, where one of them might end up hosting a Jedi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fives to One

“You still owe me ten credits!”

Fives laughs and waves at Ion, their pilot from the Kamino freezer to Coruscant. “I’m gonna win it on the trip back!” he shouts over his shoulder, grinning as the pilot makes a playfully rude gesture. Echo shakes his head next to him, and Fives transfers the grin to his brother. “What?”

“We _are_ compatible with a Jedi. You might be sticking around.”

Fives grins and shrugs, pretending nonchalance. “In that case, I can send it to him.” He lightly socks Echo in the shoulder. “And we’re _both_ compatible, so it could just as easily be you as me.”

Echo’s grin is almost shy, but Fives can see the eager little bounce in his brother’s step. Echo may be playing it cool, but they’re both thrilled beyond words that at the end of the day, one of them might be hosting a Jedi.

Their orders get them to a small changing room in a quiet area of the Temple, and they’re almost late getting there despite Echo’s constant attempts to get Fives to hurry the kriffing hells up already. Fives tries, he really does, but they’ve never been to the main temple and there’s so damn much to _see_. There’s different fashions of Jedi robes from before the clones went into carbon freeze, not to mention more species than he’s ever seen and more than he thinks were on the lists they used to memorize.

There are little catwalks attached to the walls, with Jedi occasionally moving quickly down them, or smaller Jedi that are possibly inititates or padawans zooming by on modified mousedroids. All of it leaves him gaping, and grinning.

It’s dazzling, and wondrous, and he finds himself wondering if perhaps next duty cycle instead of going into freeze he could request a stint at a temple. Maybe if he’s lucky, this temple.

Oh, he likes the idea of hosting, but he tries to keep some pragmatism in the midst of his excitement.

He and Echo change fast, swapping their dress grays for long-sleeved tunics and trousers. It’s all in a soft tan, cloth a little rough but not cheap. Still tightening their belts, they hustle out of the changing room into a small antechamber, lit with low, indirect light. There’s a woman there, a civvie with reddish-brown hair in a long plait over one shoulder, with the opposite side of her head mostly shaved with intricate patterns cut into the short fuzz. She smiles and nods at them, before clasping her hands behind her back. Not “at rest” or “at attention,” so she’s not even Navy supplemental, then.

Fives and Echo exchange a look, and Echo makes a tiny hand gesture, something akin to a Y-wing pilot telling a no shit-story. Fives nods back. His brother has a good eye for people, the little things that hint at who they are or what they do. There's nothing in the woman's compact physique that rules out the possibility of her being a pilot, and for all Fives knows, his brother's seen some detail that Fives missed, or maybe Echo knows what the designs in her hair mean.

A Twi’lek comes out of one of the doorways and steps up to them, giving them a soft greeting. She introduces herself as a Jedi, then escorts them into the room. The walls are some soft off-white color, the thick carpet a green so dark it’s almost hard to pick out what the actual color is. There’s a small, low table set in the middle, and three cushions on all the sides but the one closest to the door.

The woman takes the left, and Fives takes the back. As they all settle, the Twi’lek gives them a polite bow before stepping back out.

They have to wait a few minutes, then the Twi’lek comes back in. She’s carrying another cushion, identical to what they are using. A Jedi sits on it, coiled upright and watching them with bright blue eyes.

Fives is blinking, gaping a little, and he can't help himself, because Jedi don’t come in black. The Jedi he'd worked with in ARC training, the diagrams and photos he'd seen in manuals, even the Jedi in the temple today: they were all some shade of light tan to dark brown, with a few oranges and yellows thrown in - earth tones, every last one.

The Jedi in front of them now is black as space. The light shimmers in pearly near-blue hues along its body, echoing the dark gray fins that flutter a bit in eagerness. It is the strangest looking Jedi Fives has ever seen, and he is fascinated.

The Twi’lek places the cushion in the empty space and quietly steps out, shutting the door behind her. Fives can see the quiet tension in the little Jedi, which only increases at the click of the door latch. The slight stiffness to its body remains as it slides up onto the table, turning to bow politely to each of them. Echo, Fives, then the woman. They bow back as one – well, mostly as one; the woman isn’t quite in synch with the clones – then roll up their right sleeves. Echo is very precise, as always, somehow making neat, regulated folds up to the elbow. The woman is straight-forward, halving the cloth each time, while Fives just shoves his sleeve out of the way. The Jedi makes an almost hesitant move towards Echo, who looks intrigued but calm as he stretches out his bare arm. They meet halfway, the Jedi coiling around Echo’s wrist like a fluttering, jeweled bracelet, impossibly dark against the skin. They sit there for a moment, the movement of the fins and tiny ribs matching the steady breathing of Fives’ brother.

There’s a teeny sound, a hiss ending in a breathy “weh,” and Echo turns to him, holding his arm and the Jedi out to Fives.

It tickles as the Jedi flows from around Echo’s arm to around his. He tries not to squirm, not to bounce in eagerness because there’s this almost equal tickle in his mind. It’s something like a greeting, something curious and eager. ARC training had them working with temporarily un-hosted Jedi, and it never tickled like this. It had been a steady, solid feel of weight as the Jedi flowed around the arm, the sensation of “hello” in the mind, and then the request to be passed on to the next clone.

This is almost more intimate for all that there’s only the Force impression gained through skin contact rather than a full hosting. For all that there’s more distance, this is clearly not “just ordinary business” and a casual exploration.

It takes all Fives has to not squirm and grin like an idiot, because he likes the feel of this Jedi in his mind. It’s cool and minty somehow, sharp in a fun way that makes him want to look around for a bit of trouble.

When he gets the “okay, thanks” sensation, he tries not to be too disappointed as he holds the Jedi out to the civvie. She takes the little Jedi, staring at the being wrapped around her arm with lifted eyebrows and a speculative expression.

Fives can’t tell if she’s holding on longer, or shorter than he or Echo did. Either way, she sets the Jedi back down on the table soon enough, and the being aligns itself at the edge of the table furthest from Fives. It bows to them all in turn, reverse order from the first time. This time, they bow as individuals, returning the honor.

Then by all the gods, it comes over to Fives, looking him in the eyes as it lifts its head with a jaunty tilt as if to ask what the hell he’s waiting for.

Echo gives a little fist pump, grinning like an idiot at him. The woman shrugs a little, but she’s giving him a congratulatory smile as well. Fives nods to them both, then reaches out. His hands aren’t shaking as he picks up – oh, _stars_ , this is _his_ Jedi – he picks up his Jedi, though he doesn’t know how he manages that little feat without dropping his new charge. He brings the Jedi to his mouth, feeling the swift wriggle as it slides in. There’s the funny numbness that’s the Jedi moving back, and in moments there’s a soft voice speaking between his ears. The mental voice is young - eleven, in human terms, maybe twelve at the outside? - and the presence strikes Fives as male, as the Jedi declares, # _WOW! Your mind is just wizard!_ #

Fives laughs, turning his attention inwards.

# _My name’s Anakin Skywalker,_ # his Jedi continues, # _what’s yours?_ #

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Fives to One [Podcast]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14125581) by [Quido](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quido/pseuds/Quido)




End file.
